Horoscope: a short story

I was given two writing prompts: horoscope and a missing diamond ring. This is my story on the same.
...
The thing with horoscopes is that even if you completely disapprove of them , you would have a glance at yours if you come across them. That is what happened with Ravi as he was skimming through the morning newspaper. Not an avid reader, Ravi, who was a copywriter for a small daily in Noida, read newspapers just to study the new fads in advertising. He stopped presently to read his horoscope. ''Librans would have a tryst with destiny  Fortune would favour you. Chances of money, promotion or success at work. You have to be proactive and grab your chance.''

Ravi was late, but not unusually late. There was an unwritten rule that allowed those who travelled to the Noida office from Delhi to be fifteen minutes late. Ravi had just seated himself in his chair when he was called in by his boss.  It was unsettling and inauspicious to see the boss's face early in the morning, reflected a man who did not believe in horoscopes and astrology.

''We would have to let you go,'' the boss had not exchanged much pleasantries before coming to  the focul point of the message he wanted to deliver. ''Out of 425 working days, you have been late by atleast 15 minutes on about 300 occassions, which sums up to be 4500 minutes or 75 hours or aboiut 10 working days...''

Ravi knew that the reason for his gettong fired was not what was put in front of him. He was a victim of office politics. Abhimanyu, the Shakuni Maama in their office, had from time to time influenced the boss to get rid of few employees and got his people in their position. Ravi was not listening to his boss but he could figure out when he had stopped, and without a word, he left his cabin, grabbed his bag and left the office. A peon had called his name from behind, asking him to collect his dues before leaving. But Ravi did not give a damn.

Smoking a cigaratte, Ravi sucked in tobacco and the reality of the situation. His fingers read 'Activa' imscribed on the backseat of his scooty,, for which he had three EMIs due. How was he going to survive without a job affected him, but he was not dejected. He liked his work but not passionately, but passionately did he loathe people. He felt a feverish anger at the thought of his colleagues at the office.  Encountering your boss early in the morning is indeed inauspicious, he reflected again. He thoight of the damned horroscope and felt the afternoon sun even more severely. He looked for some shade.

He found himself alongside the luxary car his boss owned.  He could have been hallucinating but the car was mocking him. He used his cigarette to scribe a heartfelt farewell message for its owner. ""Fuck ya''

Ravi who was normally morally upright, felt that it was alright to sometimes drop your high moral values, especially when it is the matter of your self confidence. You need defence mechanism to get you going.

He had almost finished scribing when his cigaratte felt and as he bent down to get it, he found something else. it was something shiny that struck to his hand. Ravi's fingers ploughed through the sand and the next instant he had a diamond ring in his hand. He ensured that he was alone in his discovery and hid the ring in his pocket.

Riding his scooty, he thought, ''425 working days, 3 hours of travelling everyday, working for atleast 4 hours every weekend at home, working up well after midnight atleast twice a week and undocumented personal sacrifices. Yes, I deserve this momento.'